Within the Hearts of Sunset Stars
by andagii-writes
Summary: Levy Luce Young stands at the top of the world, but his abrasive attitude gets him into more trouble than his pretty face's worth. An indefinite suspension exiles him to Stardew Valley, to the roof of the "family friend" he'd like to punish instead. There are some good things in the valley, though, but his wrath endangers them all... [Sequel to A Drop Echoes]
1. Levy Luce Young

**A/N:** _Hellooo Stardew Valley tag! Andagii back again with the sequel to A Drop Echoes in the Hollow! Different protagonist, see, in the same world as Kutone. Levy's a mess but I hope you find his story enjoyable all the same! If you want, find me at my Tumblr!_

* * *

"Levy, I hate using my age as an excuse, but I'm getting too goddamn old for your bullshit, y'hear me?!"

"You only hate using it 'cause you're not that fucking old, you fake-ass liar!"

"'Fake?!' Better rethink that one real hard, Levy, 'cause you're getting ready to lose the one real person in your life that cares enough to put up with this shit."

Lying back among the rumpled blankets and flattened pillows of his bed, Levy Luce Young shot an incendiary glare toward his locked bedroom door. While he loved his brother dearly—a fact Levy always paraded to anyone who would listen, even as an adult—this was one of those times he wished his brother would shut up and bury himself back in his work. "Low fucking blow, Rhei!" Levy shouted back. "Crawl back into your own goddamn business and leave me the hell alone!"

"Not when I get another fucking call from your agent saying you're on suspension, yet-a-fucking-gain!"

Of course Rhei got that call. Of course. Levy blindly stretched his hand toward his nightstand and pushed aside digital clock, pills, crumpled tissues, and even his lamp in his fumbling search for his phone. Only when a pounding pain shot up from his knuckles did he realize he slammed the back of his hand onto the object of his search. Hissing against his bruised and torn knuckles, Levy sat up, switching his phone on to find confirmation of Rhei's claims.

_Consider this suspension the last one I'll tolerate, Levy._  
_I'm in love with your work, but if you don't fix your attitude I can't protect you anymore!_

Typical. Yet another agent bites the dust because they just can't handle him and his volatile temper.

_I've asked your brother to help us._  
_Help YOU out, help you find your way. _  
_Depending on his suggestion, I'm going to extend your suspension._

Levy shot up, cold sweat already beading on his forehead. His agent had asked Rhei to oversee his suspension? Talk about a turn of events in his otherwise mediocre life. He looked up from his phone screen to his window, a floor-to-ceiling glass pane from which he watched Zuzu City light up like a reflection of the night sky. With twilight setting in and casting the city below him into a deep silhouette, he could see his own pale face blinking uncertainly back at him.

Well, pale with red and blue splotches on his cheekbone. Nothing like the "milky ivory" the magazines touted as the color of his pretty face. But who was he kidding? With that bruise, he was _fugly_ more than anything. Makeup could easily cover that, he decided, and if he styled the fringes of his silky dark hair the right way, he could double up on the cover and profit from it at the same time. They always liked the "I changed up my style" story, after all—media buzz was all about overanalyzing his every decision.

But with Rhei in the picture, suspension meant no profits from leading on the public. Goddamn Rhei, who Levy realized, had gone strangely silent in the recent few minutes. His reflection mirrored the heave and settle of his slim shoulders under the wide neckline of his designer shirt, as well as the red and purple of the split skin at his knuckles.

Standing from his bed, Levy crossed the hardwood floor of his room, a hotel suite more than a private bedroom. The hems of his sweatpants dragged along the carpet as he climbed the two shallow steps up from the sleeping area to the den, and finally, across to his door. Still hearing nothing from Rhei, Levy turned the doorknob, and with an unamused scowl, threw open the door.

Rhei Adrian Young. A person couldn't help saying his entire name when beholding him. Being two years shy of forty had done nothing to detract from his charisma, either. In fact, Levy grudgingly acknowledged, Rhei's charm had aged almost too well, just like the wine he distributed throughout the Ferngill Republic. Even with gray hairs starting to pepper his well-maintained stubble and feathery black hair, he still retained his suaveness, evident in his relaxed poise leaning against the wall.

Despite his bearing, however, deep, fuming irritation darkened his features like a thundercloud. Truthfully, Levy was probably the only person to see this juxtaposition in his brother's composure. At least the exclusivity still felt good.

Rhei's phone lit up his features, as he tapped out a lightning-fast series of texts. He met Levy's glower with a venomous side-eye of his own, shut off and pocketed his phone, and stood to his full height as he crossed his arms.

In the face of his brother's patronizing expression, Levy wilted. He pressed a hand to his face. "I'm sorry," he said. "Okay? I know I fucked it up again."

"You're twenty-six and already have your dream job," Rhei shot back. "Yet you're about to lose it because you keep slugging the people who piss you off. You think I can keep bailing you out?"

"Well clearly!" Levy gestured to the phone in Rhei's pocket. "Since you're apparently the genius to decide my punishment, yet a-fucking-gain."

"You didn't leave your agent with much choice."

"So what'd you tell her?"

"That I'm going to arrange something with a friend of mine and see if we can send you out of the city."

Levy groaned. "Oh come on, Rhei. Playing kum-ba-yah with the hippies clearly didn't work the last time."

"Like hell I'll ever send you on a meditative retreat again. You have a lunch appointment with me at the office in two days—and don't cover your bruises. The more she sees, the better of an idea she'll get about you."

"She?" But Rhei had already stalked off down the corridor as Levy stared at his back. "She who?"

A slammed door replied instead, as Rhei disappeared into his room.

* * *

Levy's everyday life consisted of regular lunch appointment meetings. But what kind of lunch appointments demanded so much privacy that Rhei needed to chase off the entire top floor of Young SD Distributors? Granted, the building lacked Joja Co. HQ's private top floor conference rooms, and doubly granted, the tabloid reporters had already congregated downstairs. And unfortunately, knit beanies, sunglasses, and ratty hoodies just couldn't dull the dazzle of a rising modeling star.

The clock in the conference room ticked the minutes by, matching the shuffle of Rhei's pacing beyond the closed door. With his contact arriving soon, Levy had to stay inside, to "choke his bias" or something like that. He leaned back in his chair and put up his bright red kicks on the table. At least he could endure Rhei's next circle of hell in relative comfort.

Then, by the squeak of his shoes, Rhei halted, and followed with a relieved, "You are a goddamn hero, for even showing up."

To which a woman's voice replied, "After seeing you so painfully desperate for the first time in about a decade? I owe you _some_ consideration, don't you think?"

A woman. A woman who knew Rhei long enough to know what desperation sounded like in his voice. A woman who knew him for at least ten years? Intriguing, thought Levy, pulling his feet off the conference table and planting them on the carpeted floor. Rhei, a man married to his work, never mentioned any recent women, though they practically fell over his feet whenever he arrived at the building. So this was a woman from Rhei's past. Levy strained his hearing further.

"All things considered," Rhei responded, "and especially considering your position in life, no. So if you really decide to do this for me, I could pay you in blood and it still wouldn't be enough."

"Stop," the woman chuckled. "I wouldn't take that from an old friend."

Levy turned a sharp glower to the door. A woman who considered his brother an old friend? Who the hell was this, and why did the topic sound so familiar at the same time?

"Believe me, you'll want to take it." Clicks sounded as he turned the knob. "Especially after you see what you're about to sign up for."

"Wait. Seb's at the car but Darius came up with me—"

Rhei let go of the door. "—Oh, _yes_, you brought my favorite little dude with you?"

Darius. Rhei had mentioned that name before, more times than Levy cared to remember. And there was a reason Levy never cared, and not because Rhei doted on this "Darius" kid like his own son.

An excited squeak greeted the conversation. "Uncle Rhei! Hi Uncle Rhei!"

"There's the little champ!" Then came a beleaguered grunt, followed by Rhei's laugh. "_Ooooof_, sweet Yoba, Darius, I can't pick you up like this if you keep growing up!"

"Then I should stop!"

"Nah, you gotta grow big and strong to help out your mama, right?"

"And Daddy!"

"Listen to this little guy. Probably more reliable than any of us here."

The door clicked and turned again, opening to Rhei with a little boy cradled against him. He gazed back over his shoulder to a woman responding, "Trust me. He is."

Meanwhile, Darius had turned his attention to Levy. Icy gray eyes shined against his features, tanned and healthy and glowing from so much play in the sunlight. Yet a certain gravity—charisma, probably, just like Rhei—pulled Levy to meet Darius's unsettling eyes.

Or maybe that was the boy's silky midnight hair doing the trick. The rattail was pretty rad.

But then came the woman, Darius's mother. In blouse and slacks, she could have been any other of Rhei's office workers, but the resemblance ended there, along with Levy's neutral humor.

He slammed his heel back on the table, nearly upheaving the thing next with a savage kick. "Your ex," Levy snarled, glaring up at the woman's violet locks and dark, indifferent eyes. "You're about to send me off with your goddamn _ex_?"

"_Kutone_," Rhei corrected, putting Darius down to run back against his mother, "is, yes, my ex, but also my friend and my business partner."

"Who tossed you out like fucking _trash_—!"

"_Not_ in the front of the kid, Levy!"

Kutone, hands pressed over Darius's ears, pulled a strained smile. "Maybe you should walk your brother through this first," she said. "I'll take Darius back to the car."

"As if!" Levy snarled, standing up and jabbing a finger in Darius's direction. "Kid can sit there and listen to me rip you the new one you fucking deserve, you…!"

Kutone's movement blurred, as she shoved Darius to Rhei, and threw them both out of the room before slamming the door closed. She dropped her bag from her shoulder, her brisk walk pushing Levy back into his chair. "Sure I deserve it," she hissed. "But Darius? Rhei?" Her face came close, forcing Levy to meet Kutone's dark eyes, sharp and narrowed. "Whatever gripe you have with me, you keep it between you and me. My son and your brother? Keep. Out."

She drew back and scooped up her purse again, while Levy nursed a dumb, blank shock. _This_ was his brother's ex? _That_ Kutone? None of Rhei's descriptions in Levy's mind correlated with Kutone's ferocity then, as he set her hand on the knob again. "Now," she started, "can you remember our deal and see this meeting through like an adult?"

Levy licked his lips and nodded, eyes still wide and staring. _Get it together_, he told himself. _You just weren't expecting her to be this kind of woman. Keep it cool. Play her game_. He'd only lost the battle, after all, not the war.

He nodded again as Kutone opened the door. "Now I see what I'm signing up for," she sighed. Then, smiling, she knelt down to Darius's worried frown. "I'm alright, Darius. You wanna go back down with Daddy?"

What a stupid kid, if he decided to stay after seeing all that.

But Darius, after glancing once in Levy's direction, shook his head and curled his slim arms around Kutone's neck. "I'm not scared," was all he murmured before he buried his face into his mother's collar.

"If you are, you don't have to act like you're not."

The soothing mother's voice—not at all what Levy expected from the intensity before—whispered something about not forcing bravery, when a shove jarred Levy out of his thoughts. Another shove shuffled him out of his seat and onto unsteady feet. Rhei, ripping down Levy's hood, grabbed him by a fistful of fabric and forced his head down.

Levy bit back his snap when he saw Rhei put his head down as well. God, how many times did he have to watch Rhei stoop to this level?

"This is my dumbass brother." Levy could hear every frustration, every rebuke, every fiber of exasperation straining Rhei's voice. "He's good for nothing for your family, Kutone—he's done me a favor and proved it himself—but I swear to you, the kid just needs a chance. He's good, he's sweet—!"

"Would you goddamn stop vouching for me?"

"Levy—!"

"Don't even bother spewing crap you don't believe. I stopped being that little brother you loved a long fucking time ago."

Kutone, with Darius hugging her waist, folded her arms. "Now I really see what you're asking me to do," she sighed. Giving Darius a gentle comb of his hair, she coaxed him into one of the conference chairs with a pat on his shoulder. While the kid spun and started smiling again, she turned the makeshift merry-go-round into a thrill. Stopping and going, spinning backwards then forwards again, and despite Levy's sullen frown, she still smiled.

"Rhei," she started again once she got a muffled giggle from Darius, "you do know I'm telling Sebastian everything that happened here, right? And when I do, you know he'll be flat against it."

"And also accuse me of still shoving the most difficult jobs onto your plate. Maybe he'll finally come swinging at me next time I'm at the Banks." Rhei still wouldn't look up from his bow, and eased none of his grip on Levy. "But I think if Levy gets the chance to breathe the same air you and I did out there, he'll change, just like we did. He just needs to find himself—just one chance."

"What would you know about what I need?" Levy spat.

"That you'll find it in Stardew Valley."

Through Levy's irate groan, Darius's chair squeaked. "Uncle Rhei, you gonna visit?"

Rhei finally looked up from the floor. He snorted, an audible smile plastered to his strained chuckle. "I should, kiddo, but I've been really busy, y'know?"

"But the starfruits in the greenhouse miss you."

The tension, Levy felt, loosened the more Darius talked. Rhei eased his grip and stood up. Levy followed, though he kept his eyes down. His brother rolled his shoulders and rubbed the back of his neck. "I know, Darius. But you saw my brother here…"

"He can come too!" The chair squeaked and swiveled as Darius looked up at his mother. "Can't he, Mama? Uncle Rhei's brother can come too, right?"

Darius was, in the very least, incredibly fucking stupid. Levy gaped at the sheer idiocy. "You were just crying on your mother 'cause you were shitting yourself—ow!—weren't you?"

The kid averted his gray eyes and shrugged. Talk about making no sense.

Kutone sighed and pulled on the chair's backrest. Though Darius squeaked in surprise, he rolled onto his stomach and crawled higher up the cushion. He completely ignored the crease in Kutone's brow as she sighed. "You'd let this scary guy come to the Banks?"

"If Daddy says yes."

Rhei snapped up. "You think your dad would watch this guy for, say, three months?"

"Three months?" Darius settled his gaze on Levy. Even that innocent stare looked like the kid ran calculations through his head. "He's not scary like Mommy or Daddy when they're mad. I can ask."

Levy gawked, the kid's suddenly calm air rattling his nerves. "I am not heading out to the boonies for three goddamn months—!"

Kutone, meanwhile, stared up at the ceiling. "Mommy's gonna get lectured something awful if we ask to take him for three flipping months…"

Yet Darius cracked a toothy grin and rolled onto his back again, giggling, "What if Daddy lectures Levy instead?"

Rhei, quivering with choked guffaws, gestured an animated flourish. "And once again," he coughed, "it's the kid that comes up with the best ideas, eh?"

"So that's what it is, isn't it?!" Levy spun around, ready to strangle his brother with his necktie. "You're here to find the best way to humiliate me?"

"Now if I really wanted to do that," replied Rhei, landing a cracking flick on Levy's forehead, "I'd have let the tabloids up here already."

But this might as well be a vacation, Rhei further clarified, and with Darius engaging more with the idea, Levy's vacation plans developed into an itinerary. Resigned and defeated Levy flopped into another conference chair and spun around in his seat. Facing away from Rhei, Kutone, and a playful chirping Darius engrossed in discussion, Levy threw his feet back up onto the table. No amount of argument had enough power to sway his brother once he felt some bit of support, even if that support came from a goddamn toddler, of all things.

His brother's doting talk cleared the angry haze in Levy's thoughts. Darius. Four years old this year, beloved son to Kutone (The Whoring Ex) and—and whoever her husband happened to be. Probably just as morally questionable as Kutone. Similarities attracted more than differences, didn't they?

Rhei's victorious, conclusive tone brought Levy back from his reflections. "Since I've got that inspection to do in the valley, then, I'll bring Levy at the same time. Sebastian will have his chance to meet my brother…"

Sebastian. That's the husband. Levy rolled his eyes.

"…Levy gets to see the valley, and we'll have some time to prepare for his exile."

"Exile?" Levy echoed, spinning around and sitting up. "I heard 'vacation'…"

"Exile," Rhei said. Features placid, tone matter-of-fact—Rhei wasn't joking. "I mean, three months? If your agent decides to drop you because of this, then it's exile, right?"

For the first time since his agent's scathing texts, since beholding Kutone there at the upper floors of his older brother's workplace, and even since meeting Darius's uncanny eyes, Levy felt a wide, unknown _something_ beginning to yawn open like a maw at his feet. Three months, maybe even longer, away from the world he looked down on in the evening, the world he practically ruled over with his looks and his fists? And away from his brother?

Gaping again, Levy stared first at Rhei, then at the floor. "Oh," he mumbled. "Oh, I'm really and truly in for it, aren't I?"

But even as Rhei cracked his "oh yes you are _so_ in for it" grin, even while Levy cursed his own complete defeat—it was three against one, after all, and totally unfair—a quiet, dark whisper issued its assurance:

_Bide your time_, it said, _and when she least expects it, make her pay_.

* * *

Though black night veiled the sky over Zuzu City, a wide-awake Darius watched the streetlights pass over him through the window. The car's backseat cushions always took their time becoming a comfortable bed for him, with all their weird dips and hills that matched none of the arches of his back or neck. He turned and rolled and sighed, restless, as his parents talked.

Daddy decided to drive back tonight, because as soon as Mommy and Darius got back to the car, he'd seen Mommy's tired look. "I'll drive," he'd said, "so just tell me about how strangely difficult working with Rhei was today."

Then Mommy said, "Let me and your son get an actual lunch in us, then let me get my thoughts together and I'll happily tell you everything that happened."

And lunch was great because Daddy called up Grandma Nagisa and Grandpa Andres, and everyone went to lunch at Zuzu City's branch of Willy's Fish Basket. Old Willy at Stardew Valley caught the catfish and tilapia for the Fish Basket's weekly Fried Fish Surprise, so it was very yummy. Mommy started talking about Summer Plans with Grandma and Grandpa, how she wanted to do a Seventh Eve festival at the Banks, for the family more than anyone else.

"Oh but," Grandma had said, "you don't have a bamboo tree for the _tanzaku_, do you?"

"Darius wants to use one of the peach trees."

The biggest one, he'd added, the one with the sweetest peaches, and Grandma seemed happy with that, so she promised to bring gifts and tea and more decorations.

Then Mommy said, "We're going to have a guest over too," and that's when Daddy sat back, crossed his arms, and got his "Now you _really_ have to tell me everything" look. Grandma and Grandpa seemed okay with having guests—Grandma even asked if Uncle Rhei or Sam or Abby-_ne-chan_ could make it too—so they didn't see Daddy's brow wrinkle.

But Mommy did, so that's why, while Darius counted the orange-red lights passing over his head through the car window, she finally talked about what happened with Uncle Rhei and Levy ("Levy-_nii-chan_?" Maybe not yet, but the thought sure was exciting!) at Uncle Rhei's office.

"I'm going to say no," said Daddy. "Just because you and Darius think we should give the guy a chance, doesn't mean I agree."

"I would have asked Harvey to check on you if you did," said Mommy.

"Then why bother, Kutone?" Daddy's hair's usually like midnight in the valley, but it glows orange then back to black under the passing street lamps. "Hearing about this Levy kid… I can't, in good conscience, say it's okay for him to be under the same roof as my family."

"He won't be freeloading. I'll put him to work, either with me—"

"—You _just_ told me he'd k—hurt you—if he could."

"Yes, but I think—I think I'm the only one he's angry at. Once I brought Darius and Rhei into the conversation, he calmed down."

"'So let's let him watch Darius?' You know Darius wants to protect you just as much as I do."

Darius, smiling, rubbed his eyes. Daddy still remembered his promise—_you and me, we'll look after Mom together_.

Daddy sighed. "How do you know Levy won't take it out on Darius?"

"Because _Rhei Young_ lowered his head to vouch for his little brother." Mommy leaned her head against her window. "And you of all people know I owe a lot to Rhei."

"He owes you too."

"He owes me more than he can give in his lifetime, but that doesn't excuse me from what I did to him either."

Sleepy Darius, still tracking the passing lights so unlike the fireflies of Stardew Valley, mumbled, "Did you hurt Uncle Rhei, Mommy?"

Silence choked off the conversation, until Mommy sighed. "I did. Uncle Rhei said it's okay now, but I've never told him I'm sorry."

At a red light, Daddy turned to Mommy. The air around him stayed still and warm, not cold and icy, so Darius knew, Daddy wasn't mad. Even if he was, he never stayed mad for a long time. Instead, he reached over and took Mommy's hand in his. "So to you," he said, "it's a good chance to finally do so?"

Mommy nodded. Daddy smiled. The light turned green so Daddy turned back to the road. Inside the car got quiet again. As the streetlights and neons faded away, as Zuzu City's night began blinking alive with stars, Darius closed his heavy eyes.

"You know," Mommy said, "for as long as I've known Rhei, and how much he's talked about Levy, this was my first time meeting him."

"Hell of a first meeting," Daddy snorted. "So I'm still not okay with this."

"Three months, Sebby. It's not permanent. I promise I'll put him in the guest house."

"It's not even done yet."

"First thing tomorrow, I'll head to your mother's. We'll work out a schedule. I'll even help with construction or the final touches—"

"—I'll do that part." Another spell of quiet settled between them, but Darius knew, or at least imagined, that Daddy had reached over for Mommy's hand again. 'Cause they did that a lot. Holding hands. "You work out the schedule. Get all the final plans done. If Mom needs any physical help, I'll do it."

Because Mommy needed to take care of herself. How could the farm run, the family stay together, if Mommy wasn't feeling well?

With an agreeing smile, Darius closed his eyes, sleep finally winning him over.

Above him, the stars over the valley welcomed him back home.


	2. Twilit Snapshot

**A/N:** _Thanks again for stopping by, and for your patience! Just to reiterate, this is the sequel to _A Drop Echoes in the Hollow_, which is why you're seeing aged-up characters with broader, more mature outlooks on life in comparison to the angry hot mess that Levy has been so far. Follow the links on my profile page to find my Tumblr, where I'm blogging periodically about not only this fic, but also an original fantasy novel I'm writing!_

* * *

Sunset tinged the sky rosy gold as twilight shadowed the hills, visible despite the car's tinted windows. Rather than convincing Rhei to turn the car around, Levy watched the twilight gradient settle over Stardew Valley. After all, no amount of apologizing or promising to do better would have shaken Rhei to back down from his decision. A combination of this knowledge plus Levy's silent cursing, had Rhei, steering wheel held steady and foot on the gas pedal, happily navigating the curves down the valley.

At the same time, Rhei had barely spoken during the three-and-a-half-hour journey out of Zuzu City. Levy couldn't help casting the occasional glance. Rhei only ever held his tongue when a concern nagged him, but this time, spiteful Levy didn't pry. For the week and a half leading up to this exile, he never pried. Let Rhei stew in his problems by himself for once. In fact, let him do it for the rest of his life. Rhei would never find a confidant in Levy again.

And yet, Rhei snorted a half-smile. "You won't hate the place as much as you hate her."

"I didn't say I would or did."

"And you've always sucked at lying."

Levy shrugged. "Then turn this car around."

"Not until you realize me and her are done with the past. You keep dragging this around like it's a present problem."

"Maybe because it is—you're leaving me with her for three months."

"I never said you had to associate with her."

Levy sat back, huffing at his reflection in the window. Brushing his thumb across the bruise on his cheek, recovering from its reddish-purple welt into a sickly green, he snorted again. "So all of this is for your benefit. You want to push some kind of new business deal with her, and you need me to team up with her or something. So you take on this 'discipline Levy' thing from my agent? Kill two birds with one stone?"

Rhei snickered. "I could choose to be that cunning."

The forest thinned around them as the sky opened wider. As Rhei turned off the highway, the downhill road rocked harder and harder with uneven asphalt, until the decline leveled out into a long tunnel. Levy turned a cursory gaze up, unconsciously counting the orangish lamps as they passed overhead. Like a countdown to launch. Rehearsal steps widening into a strut. An unconscious sneer lacing his glossed lips. The audience and applause amplifying, the catwalk shining its path before him.

No matter the clothes on his back or the makeup on his face, the lights loved him. He'd loved them back.

Now he had nothing.

The tunnel opened.

Levy gaped.

The setting sun of Stardew Valley turned the sea beyond into a shimmer of golden stars. Even as Rhei pulled to the curb, stopped the car, and climbed out, Levy watched the ebb and flow of the oceanic horizon. A summer breeze rustled the treetops into a soft whisper, a visible sound even through the tinted window.

Rhei rapped the glass, the knocks piercing through Levy's daze. He twisted his features back into a scowl, and threw the door open.

Outside, after jumping back from a car door to the face, Rhei took Levy's bag from the trunk. Handing the duffel to Levy, Rhei grinned and buried his hands into his pockets. "Glad you like it already," Rhei practically sang. "I knew you wouldn't hate it as much as you thought."

"Keep telling yourself that," Levy grunted, shouldering his bag. "So now what?"

"Your favorite part of the day." Rhei clapped a hand over Levy's shoulder and strode away. "A meet-and-greet with the townspeople. Since you're staying three months and all. With Kutone."

Someday, Levy thought, he'd find some ounce of true hatred within himself to eviscerate Rhei in his sleep. But having no other option than to glare daggers into his brother's back, Levy dragged his feet down the dirt path. How would Rhei's positivity thing work here? Something about finding the silver lining?

His brother continued ahead, his dark suit jacket glowing orange by the valley sunset. Meanwhile, Levy stopped and stared at the ground. Sighed. Scuffed the dirt with the toe of his shoe and then sighed again as a puff of dust powdered the red canvas.

Positivity. Okay. At least the air tasted good. Even with sticky humidity stinging the back of his nose and throat. And sweat already threading down his temples and soaking his nape. Yeah. Silver linings.

Levy shouldered his bag higher and started down the path again. As he negotiated the hill—_please no more of this country dust on my shoes_—a shrill squeak sounded ahead.

"Rhei? Ohmigosh, Rhei! Over here, turn this way!"

Ugh. Groupies. This one, a blonde girl practically dashing up the road toward them, even had a camera hanging from around her neck. The traditional viewfinder type, too—at least that made her a rare breed.

Levy grimaced anyway, as the girl, fluttering her lined lash at Rhei, looped one fair arm around his sleeve. She yammered on, either ignoring or not seeing Rhei's strained smile. "We've all been wondering about you, you know! Not even Darius knew when you'd next be coming around, and neither Kutone or Sebastian say much so there was no clue—!"

"—Haley," Rhei coughed, worming his arm out of hers, "Good to see you enthused as ever."

_Over_enthused, Levy corrected. But that was the quintessence of Rhei's groupies. When they spotted him, they sparkled. They squeaked their voices and smiled with glossed lips. They finger-combed their hair, straightened their blouses, and hiked up their skirts. Worst of all? They touched him. Levy shuddered, but Rhei never fought them off, but he had mastered evading them while maintaining his ever-easy expression.

As they approached the central plaza, Haley and her gold waves and blue frills bounced back from Rhei. How those cute wedges held her up on the cobble without breaking her ankles, Levy guessed extreme practice. "I'm nothing else if not enthused! I have to be out and about!" She brandished her camera. "I've been getting better and better too—if you just let me do your photos, you'd see."

Rhei scratched the stubble at his chin. "I haven't changed much, Haley."

"It's not about change, dummy, it's about your shit photographer making you look older than you actually are." Haley puffed out her chest. "My photos would put you on the front of all the men's magazines!"

Kudos to that inflated pride, but the men's magazines already had Levy's face on them. He snickered at the irony.

As Rhei's shoulders relaxed, Levy snuck up behind him, spun his bag over his shoulder, and rammed the duffel into Rhei's back, earning a whooshing "_ooooff_!" and bodily buckle. Haley squealed as Rhei clapped his hand over Levy's shoulder for support. Even while his brother, bowed in pain and aggravation, shook against him, Levy snorted back his cackle and announced, "Yo."

Haley, hands hovering over her citrus-colored lips, stared with wide blue eyes. In the moments Rhei took to stand back up to his full height, Haley lowered her hands, cast her glance back and forth between the two, and finally crossed her arms. She turned her nose up, switching her alarmed expression for cool indifference. "Who are you? Some relative?"

Levy, after sliding his bangs aside, likewise crossed his arms. "His brother," he said, shaking Rhei off his shoulder. "Haley, right? And you're what, exactly?"

"Just a normal girl looking for a way up in the world." Eyes severe, she put her free hand on her hip. "I do photography—" She waved her camera again. "—and sell stock photos and blog in the meantime. What's it to you?"

"Nothing, long as you're not another groupie trying to get in Rhei's pants."

While Rhei groaned, Haley, lip twitching, lifted a brow. "Huh." She stood back, her posture contemplative, at least until her shoulders started shaking with her tittering. "Brother complex, much?" Then waving her other hand, she sighed out the rest of her breathy giggles. "Look, your brother's eye candy and all but I don't do older guys."

"Could have fooled me."

At Haley's incendiary glare, Rhei, straightening the lapels of his jacket, seized Levy back by his shoulder. "_So_ good to know my humiliation's a common interest here." He laid another hard clap on Levy's shoulder, then sauntered off. "You keep making friends while I make a stop. Don't run off without me."

Making _friends_? Oh screw him.

The bells on the general store's door jingled as Rhei disappeared inside. Levy dug his hands into his jean pockets. Haley relaxed, arms crossed and a small simper tugging the corner of her lip. "So tell me about you. Someone like you wouldn't come out here 'cause they want to."

"How'd you figure?"

Haley shrugged, gesturing toward Pierre's General Store. "I mean, it's obvious Rhei dragged you out here. He's the only outsider sentimental enough to keep coming back to Pelican Town. And look at yourself." She pointed first at Levy's shoes, and swept her finger up to indicate his outfit. "You should be looking right now for a place to change into something cheap, if you don't want sweat stains on that gorgeous cashmere."

Levy rolled his shoulders, the motion shifting the wide neck of his sweater down one shoulder. While he agreed taking off the beige cashmere would do wonders to cool off his overheating brow, no stranger's word was about to convince him. "Is summer always this bad out here?"

"Sticky and burning and bright enough to bleach your hair right through." Haley curled the ends of her blonde hair as she snorted, "God, you're like a boy version of me."

He scowled, hoping to throw his irritation straight back into Haley's face. "Yet you're still here in the middle of bumfuck nowhere," he growled, seizing his bag back up. He brushed past her, not even trying to hide the deliberate shove of his shoulder against hers. "And I'm going back to the car. So you and me? We're completely different, fuck you very much."

Though Haley pouted, she kept her tone even. "Best think again. Everyone knows you're staying with Kutone and Sebastian for the summer."

Turning around would admit his defeat, but the fact Rhei had already dragged his ass four hours into the valley meant Levy had already lost. He stopped and craned his head back just slightly enough to show he was listening.

Haley crossed the cobble and, turning Levy around, jabbed her finger into his chest. "So pro tip, okay? Can the shitty attitude, else it'll get you into deep trouble with the exact wrong person." She stepped away, turning her nose up against Levy's glower. "So at least be smart enough to use your pretty face to fake it. Alright?"

Unfazed Haley met Levy's glare with her own cool condescension. Confidence gave her the swerve in her step to make a perfect pivot and toss her golden waves into Levy's face as she walked away.

So Levy had to sigh in defeat. Haley? Kind of a badass.

But that glorious retreat—and Levy's good impression—stopped dead with a surprised squeal, as an orange and blonde blur hurtled down into the plaza. The clatter of a longboard clipped abruptly as the front wheels dipped, but the rider leaped off with practiced ease. As he settled into a long, rolling gait, Levy grimaced at the guy's windswept hair and pierced ears. A boy-next-door type. In the wrong setting, he would have been an airheaded, pothead dudebro.

But Haley had flipped a switch, suddenly fluffing and gathering her hair over one shoulder. "Scared me half to death, Sam!" Her voice trembled with a dramatic flair. "Rehearsal with Sebastian and Abigail?"

At least she hadn't been lying about not doing older guys. Levy couldn't blame her, or her good taste. Sam was tall, lean, and somehow made the "overshirt tied around the waist" aesthetic fashionable. His good proportions and that orange tank made the ensemble.

Sam, with a sheepish look, kicked up his longboard. "More like half-rehearsal and half-babysitting-Darius," he said. "We got some jams recorded but Darius is too cool of a kid to ignore." He shrugged, coughing at the same time. "Anyway. I didn't mean to surprise you, sorry."

Then apparently noticing Levy beyond Haley's shoulder, Sam lifted a hand in a half-wave. "Hey there, newbie. You another _pinkcake_ follower?"

Levy shook his head, while Haley puffed her cheeks. "Not every stranger you see coming through here follows my blog."

"Grand majority," Sam snickered. Tucking his longboard under one arm, he left a pat on Haley's shoulder as he brushed past her. Approaching Levy, Sam stuck out his hand, adding, "But fine, I'll believe you. Even if he looks way too familiar."

Familiar? That's it? Though unimpressed, Levy took the handshake. Not that he could blame these country people. Even with Rhei handling merchandising, the latest magazines rarely made it out to the boonies in time for the next new issues. He eyed the general store. Surely some of his magazines had made it out here?

Then again, who was he kidding? No matter the love and support Rhei poured into Stardew Valley, the countryside, by definition, could only dream of matching the city's pace. Out here, Levy was a nobody. His evidence? The awkward one-sided-flirting conversation continued back and forth between Sam and Haley, with no recognition of Levy's face as the pretty one on a few of those magazine covers.

Slugging that director really did have its woeful consequences…

Sam, at least, still had his head cocked to one side, brow furrowed. "Rhei's brother. I buy it, but there's someplace else I've seen you. Right?"

Rather than scream the correct response, Levy bit back his retort. Talking to Haley had already screwed up his first impressions upon the people of Pelican Town. Better they stayed ignorant then, despite the critical blow to Levy's ego. Dread and disappointment welled in him again like a viscous mire.

Meanwhile, Haley rolled her eyes. "Well, standing there and staring won't get you the answer." She nudged Sam with her elbow. "How about you and me give him a little town tour? He's staying for the summer so we have to make sure he doesn't need babysitting."

Levy stepped back. "Look, thanks and all," he grunted, "but I'll just wait for my brother."

"Have fun waiting a couple hours then," Haley sniffed. "Once Rhei and Pierre start talking business, they're usually at it even as they're walking to the Saloon after closing."

Sighing, Levy sagged his shoulders, dropped his bag, and dealt a kick to its side. The duffel spun, scraping against the ground before slamming into the wall just underneath the town bulletin board. While Haley probably made up an excuse—probably trying to seize more of Sam's time and waste more of Levy's—Levy watched the dust settle over canvas of his bag. He sighed again. "Couple hours" was barely a kind estimate, considering the many times Levy had waited in office lobbies while Rhei ran his business mouth.

"I think," Sam started, raising a brow, "Haley's got it right, and a little walk around town would at least help you kill some time."

Blowing a hiss through his teeth, Levy rolled his shoulders. This was it. His trial started now, and he needed to show Rhei some palpable results. "Lead the way, then."

Haley practically hummed as she pranced ahead, Sam keeping an equal distance between her and Levy as he explained everything Pelican Town had to offer. The community-wide luau had just passed, he explained, successfully enough the governor had promised another grant for the town to continue thriving. While Levy scoffed, unaffected Sam grinned and vouched for the potluck soup: "It always becomes some remix of seafood chowder, but this year was the best in all the years. I really should have taken some of it home."

"Instead you ate it all there," Haley giggled. "That was the first I'd seen anyone's appetite rival Alex's."

As the trio passed the back of the Stardrop Saloon, Sam chuckled. "I'm taking that as a compliment," he said. He then gestured to the little blue house ahead of them and nodded to Levy. "You're from the city, so you might know Alex. 'Mullner' ring a bell for you?"

Levy followed sports just barely enough to know Zuzu City's current celebratory frenzy revolved around the gridball team's new quarterback. Plastering a deadpan, unimpressed expression, he sniffed, "Such quaint roots. No wonder his agents love him so much."

Haley flounced ahead, stopping just at the door. "He's been using the money from his contract to get this house redone for his grandparents, you know. It's all he's ever dreamed of."

So a man makes something worthwhile of himself, and that's all he does with his gains? Levy frowned, but instead of arguing—that's a praise-worthy start, right?—he mumbled, "That's… good on him." He sucked in the "not that I really care" that tried to trickle out. Still, he hoped he sounded as bored and annoyed as he felt. "Seems like a town full of celebrities here."

"Just Alex," Sam snickered while Haley rang the doorbell. "And maybe Kutone too. Things just sorta changed once she started restoring that old farm."

Levy pursed his lips into a tight line. For them, the change sounded good. Maybe she inspired them or something, with whatever fearsome power one woman could wield on her own.

And yes, "fearsome." Look what had happened to Rhei's happiness.

Look what had happened to Levy's own dreams.

If nothing else, Kutone certainly changed things.

"For better and for worse," said Levy. "Probably for worse before you realize it."

Concern creased Sam's features, but the door opened before he pressed further.

Levy bristled as Alex stooped to clear the threshold of the little blue country house. Big guy like him, no wonder he could handle the land of exile. In fact, Alex seemed eagerly ready for the country life, given his easy smile and haircut. Neither the magazines or newspapers had ever captured this softness—the star athlete was truly in relaxation mode.

Alex closed the door behind him, as Haley wrapped him in a squealing hug. After a handshake from Sam, Alex raised his brow. "You brought an entire brigade, eh?"

Haley set her hands upon her hips. "The 'welcome brigade,'" she simpered. "While you're getting ready to leave for summer practice, we've got a newbie just starting his vacation."

"Oh yeah?" Alex swept a glance across Levy. "Not by his own choice, I'm guessing."

Levy rolled his eyes. "How did you figure?"

"The shoes," said Alex, staring down. "I used to be the same way."

"That's rude. I'm not that hopeless."

Sam rubbed the back of his neck. "Harsh," he coughed, eyeing Alex sitting down on the front step. "You've already decided what to think about us, huh?"

"Had already decided it the moment Rhei made these plans."

A loud _clop_ sounded, as Haley stamped her foot and shoved a warning look up into Levy's face. "You just get even worse every time you open your mouth…!"

Alex, stretching his legs, grunted. "Don't take it personally, Haley. Some people just have a way of seeing things." He nodded up at Levy. "So where are you staying at?"

He realized then, he hated voicing it just as much as he hated thinking about it. Averting his gaze from Alex's placid expression, Levy wrinkled his nose.

Sam gave him a gentle nudge. "The Banks, right? Since Rhei brought you here."

Alex grinned. "So with Kutone. Lucky dude, first to use the new guest house they're putting up there."

"I heard they're not all the way done with it."

"Trust me," said Alex, "knowing her, she's made arrangements to get it done faster. Just the way she is, y'know? She looks after people."

Angry shivers jittered in Levy's gut. These _idiots_! What did they know about how Kutone cared for people? Not the truth, at least! As Alex, Haley, and Sam prattled on, Levy fought with the reigns to his one-track head. Focus on the air, he told himself. Get Kutone's image out of your head, get this—this feeling—away!

_But why should you?_

Humid air. Stinging. Slight salty taste, 'cause the sea was so close. Don't focus on the anger. Hands clenched, knuckles taut, the shivers rattling up his throat, flaring across his chest.

_You are your fury, child. Be yourself._

Alex laughed then, probably at some stupid joke Sam spouted, and Haley's tittering. "Yeah, I'd say she kinda became a sister to all of us," he said. "I really think that."

Family.

Levy bit his lip, the shape of the word knotting in his throat, stopping the air he desperately choked down.

"A reliable older sister," Sam added. "Super good influence on Seb too."

That should have been Rhei.

"And Darius is just so cute!" Haley squealed. "A smart little one too—he knows the best places for nature photos and always shows me more at the Banks."

Darius could have been—should have been—Rhei's.

Alex nodded. "Kid was made for the valley. Makes you believe you were made for it too, just like his mom." He leapt up to his feet and laid a comforting clap on Levy's shoulder. "So try to chill out a bit, kid. You're in good hands. Kutone's gonna become something of a sister to you too."

Levy's icy hiss made both Sam and Haley step back. "As if," said Levy, "you know me."

"Not at all," replied Alex. "I'm just saying you have something to look forward to—!"

A whitened fist shot up, the blur and resulting _crack_ hiding the tears stinging Levy's eyes then.

And just like always, he got a fist back.


	3. Witch's Brew

**A/N:** _Hello, it's been absolutely too long! I unfortunately can't estimate when the next update will be, but I hope you'll still tune in to Levy's journey! Thanks for your patience!_

* * *

Levy swore Alex had cracked his ribs, but apparently the boonies doctor wanted to let the x-rays keep lying. So Levy sat, cross-legged and hunched over, with a bruise pounding into his side, and an ice pack over his eye and cheek.

Fuck's sake, the same eye and cheek too.

Concerned chatter filled the clinic. Footsteps pattering up and down the clinic rattled through his bones. And the faces! Peeking and poking around the doorframe, as if Levy were blind to the shadows stretching along the hallway. Slowly, grudgingly, he memorized them. Bristles and spectacles? The doctor. Bouncing short auburn hair, roundish glasses slipping down her nose? The nurse. He gave them his habitual "Just send the bill to me," and waved them off, thankful for the fading echoes of their footsteps.

Not that they went far, though, since the walls next door hardly muffled the energy on the other side. "Don't worry about me, Doc." _Please, Alex, shut the actual fuck up_. "I get buried under seven 300-pound dudes every day, remember?"

He laughed a loud, fake guffaw. Cocks like him never learned their lessons, Levy knew. Took one to know one.

Sharp footsteps echoed along the hall, and in rushed Rhei. Jaw squared, hands clenched, and nostrils flared, he allowed himself one, long, thin breath.

He closed his eyes and breathed again. "You took a fist from a professional quarterback."

Levy shrugged. "Luckily, he didn't know how to actually throw it." He pulled the ice pack away from his face and swept a finger over the bruise. "Doc says nothing's broken."

Rhei's shoulders fell as he craned his head up. "Not even one night, Levy? One goddamn night?"

Rhei deserved a medal for swallowing repetitive letdowns every waking—and probably sleeping—moment of his life. Levy shrugged again, sighing.

"So, no apologies either? Is that how we're doing this?" There it was, Rhei's disappointment: Levy's best friend. "Just once, Levy, for once in your goddamn life, can't you stop? Just, like, slow down before you do something stupid—" He caught sight of the shadows down the hallway "—Kutone!"

He stormed back out, spluttering something about getting Levy in line, how sorry he was this happened so quickly, that he'd take responsibility—Rhei's usual apologizing on Levy's behalf—then Kutone stepped in. Darius again tailed at her legs, and another man stood at Kutone's side. He seemed a stranger at first, a generic gloomy type due to his black hair, but then the icy gray eyes shone in the dark of the hallway. That's definitely where Darius got his unnerving expression. That was the husband. Sebastian, was it?

Placidity ever in her air, Kutone, leaning against the doorframe, crossed her arms. "Doing alright?"

"Nothing you need to worry about," Levy mumbled.

A small smile rose in her lip. "Good to hear." Then patting Darius's head, she turned back around and laid a hand on Sebastian's arm. "Hey. Come on—we're talking to Rhei, right? No need to freeze the kid solid."

"I wasn't…" He closed his eyes and heaved a sigh, but allowed Kutone to lead him away. His voice was mellow, melancholic, yet betrayed a decisive edge. _Definitely can't underestimate that one_, Levy thought, especially so as Sebastian added on his way off, "Alex is one thing, but think if it was someone else…"

_Think if it was Darius_, Levy inwardly finished, who instead of following his parents, hid behind the threshold and peeked in. Comical, yes, but creepy and irritating at the same time. He swore those eyes would haunt his sleep for the rest of his life.

He snorted his concerns away. "What do you want?"

Darius shrunk back, but still kept one eye on Levy. "Why'd you hit Alex?"

"Why do you care?"

"Alex isn't mean. Or bad."

"Must mean I am, then, huh?"

Eyes wide, Darius emerged from his hiding spot. "Are you a bad guy? Like the witch and the void spirits and the serpents?"

Levy raised a brow. "I guess? What the hell kind of shows are you watching?"

Darius blinked, then crept to Levy's bedside. Brow knitted with as much gravity as a child could muster, he laid both hands on the plush of the bed. "If there's something bad," said Darius, "I can help."

"You're a kid. How would you know what's 'bad,' anyway?"

Darius cocked his head to the side. "You have to tell me. To give me _per-mish-un_." He nodded at himself, smiling. "But I can see too. Because I have sunset stars. I can help."

Groaning, Levy tossed his ice pack on the nightstand and clambered from bed. "Last thing I want right now is playing pretend," he spat. He jerked a thumb toward the doorway. "Go on, get, before your dad figures I've hit you already."

With a hop, Darius climbed up onto the hospital bed. He crossed his legs and leaned forward. "I can cry really loud," he said. "So you can't."

"Little brat. You think I'm scared of your old man?"

Darius nodded. "He could freeze you in an instant. I bet."

The kid was still in his head, playing pretend according to some TV show he undoubtedly watched on the weekends. Sighing, Levy waved off Darius's chatter. "Wasting my time," he snipped, and ignoring Darius's protests, marched out of the room. Ignoring the nurse's flustered warnings as she swerved into Alex's room, he kept his eyes forward, toward the clinic's exit.

Along the way, a door stood ajar. Light streamed out into the hall, and along with it, voices. Hearing Rhei among them, Levy stopped and crept closer.

"He's already blown it! Doesn't even occur to him to walk to the other room and just say one word—one fucking 'sorry!' That's all he had to do to show he has some inkling of wanting to do better, and we're getting nothing!"

Ah, had Rhei finally reached the limit of his patience with his dirtbag little brother? About goddamn time.

"And like I said, Kutone," Sebastian added, "we're lucky it was Alex and his good humor this time. Imagine if it was you or Darius."

Rhei snorted, yet his voice came out strained. "I couldn't argue if you killed Levy on the spot."

Kutone sighed. "So you both are completely fine with taking away the one chance he has to make things right?"

"How could you be the one to defend him?" Rhei hissed. "I know what he has against you, I've talked to him over and over again that he has to let it go, but he won't. He can't."

"Then there's a reason, some deep-rooted reason he apparently hasn't even told you, Rhei."

While stunned silence killed Rhei's retort, Levy blinked. So the person he hated the most also understood him the most. Must be an archenemy thing. Tension loosened somewhat from Levy's shoulders, and with it, some of the strength in his legs. He leaned back against the wall, still warily keeping out of the light streaming from the room.

"That doesn't mean you have to be the one to give him this chance," said Sebastian. "If he wants to change, we can't force him, and you can't become a martyr for his sake."

"Then…" Kutone heaved another sigh. "Maybe Rhei can convince him. Get him to choose to stay. But I'm paying what I owe to Levy."

Rhei groaned. "What the hell do you owe to him?"

"Remember, we, especially you, Rhei, have to think about why he's so… like that."

Why? Levy knew he had reasons, but not enough words to fashion those reasons into valid communication. Dressing his thoughts took way too much effort, which was why instead of his mouth, his body expressed instead. His own body took the thoughts clouding his head, filtered them through his muscles, and launched him into movement.

He really should have been a professional dancer instead.

"Look," Kutone continued. "I do have a theory. Back then? I didn't betray just you, Rhei. I didn't throw away just me or my job or my best friend or whatever else I had in the past—there's so much more I hurt beyond those things."

"Levy wasn't one of those things."

"Oh yeah? So what the hell did _you_ promise him, in regards to me, that he's this angry right now?"

Levy restrained himself from peeking around the corner, especially while Rhei kept his stony silence.

A promise, huh? Levy knew exactly the promise Rhei had made him to him, but he wasn't about to stick around to listen to his brother's confession. He pushed off the wall, and avoiding the light, shuffled down the dim corridor, past the reception desk, and crashed out the door. To hell with the townspeople watching him as he stormed past. Rhei was right, after all—Levy had no ounce of apology in him.

But Kutone was right too. He had reasons.

And eventually, he'd turn it around. He just didn't know how.

So not today.

He truly was sorry about that.

* * *

Outside, sunset had darkened to twilight, accentuated by fireflies hovering lazily against the veil of night. The humidity and heat had lost some of their bites, but the pressure of a sizzling, cicada-echoing next day choked off celebration. As Levy ascended the plaza steps and stalked past the community playground, the whispers of the townspeople died into the steadily cooling air.

Finally, finally, this was the quiet country atmosphere he was supposed to have been exiled to.

Then, a darker, sinister light flitted before him. Another firefly? Levy reached out to it, small enough to be a firefly, yet flaring like a living flame.

_Apologies for the late welcome. Do follow my guide, dear—your time has come._

Levy clapped a hand over one ear. He'd heard this voice before, whispering from a deep niche within him, beyond even the last physical wrinkle in his head. _Make her pay_. That's what it said before.

As if it recognized his thoughts, the shadowy flame drifted back and forth like a pendulum, beckoning Levy to follow.

He expected nothing. And yet, hands shoved into his pockets and head bowed forward, Levy let his feet carry him forward. He couldn't deny the little spark that had lit in his chest. Maybe something good would come out of this after all.

Maybe.

So higher up the mountain, past the house with the blue garage door and its neighboring lake, and higher still past the community bathhouse, Levy followed the drifting shadow. He crossed the tracks of a worn railway, stopping only a moment to glance down the posted timetable—the last stop here was some five years ago; so why keep a train station here?—before he rounded the corner to the station's rear. Here the shadow lingered, swinging gently.

_Just ahead. Come through._

He followed the command, taking his eyes off the guiding shadow and focusing on the dark hole yawning open on the far rock wall. A cave? Way out here? As he approached the cave entrance, he cast a hesitant gaze over his shoulder, toward the town below. Maybe he should at least text Rhei. Something quick and vague, like "out exploring, be back in a few," but Levy couldn't will his hands to make the motions. Rhei would probably assume as much, anyway. And he wouldn't care.

Would he?

A cold, dewy breeze wafted from the cave. Against his skin prickling from the heat, the draft refreshed him. Dulled him. He rubbed his eyes and swallowed down a yawn.

Nah, Levy concluded. Rhei used to care. But if he meant his words and tone back at the clinic, he'd lost that care a long time ago. Probably. Hopefully.

With a defeated snicker, Levy sauntered inside.

The dark closed around him.

He forced himself to shake off the feeling he'd been swallowed whole. Tried to ignore the sensation of something dark slithering around him. Told himself his eyes were trying to make sense of the pitch black around him, that shadows don't move or dance or cackle in real life. He counted the normal things. He groped his way forward, the sharp and dusty rock wall under his palm his guide forward, and his echoing steps a gauge for the spaciousness of the cave tunnel—surprisingly not that cavernous. He glanced once behind him and saw the night sky outside. That was normal too, though the cave's entrance looked way too small. Too far away.

His guide drifted onward, its violet hue casting bulbous shadows across the ground.

"Am I there yet?" His racing heart spilled a trill into his voice. Not scared, he told himself. Just a little jumpy. A little tired. A little fed up with everything.

Nothing responded, though another cool draft, stronger and crisper, blew through the cave. Wherever this tunnel led, at least he was almost out.

The wind through the tunnel moaned a dirge-like whine, the despairing notes sending more chills crawling across Levy's skin. He pulled his sweater close, thankful he hadn't changed into something lighter for the valley summer. Though the plush provided none of the warmth he expected, he welcomed the presence of a texture other than his own goosebumps.

When so lonely for so long, a body must find comfort in the smallest details.

The tunnel ended, its drone petering out from the ominous air as Levy emerged into a twilit clearing. Shadows shrouded the clustered pines beyond muddy brooks, while the wet smell of tree rot hung across the air. Levy wrinkled his nose as he turned a confused glower toward the sky. Still twilight.

Perfectly, strangely still.

No bird or wind disturbed the boughs, the pine needles, or the candlelight suspended in rusted lanterns above the path. Stepping stones guided Levy safely across the squelching mire, down from the tunnel entrance and around the bend, to a shrouded hut only barely lit by the lanterns.

This clearly wasn't a place for Levy to be. He cast a strained glance back over his shoulder and willed himself to turn around. He'd just taken a wrong turn while wandering. He needed a chance to clear his head. That's all.

_My dear, please, don't be shy!_

The door, a crude lashing of rough planks and tarnished handle, swung open, neither by air or someone's hand. Yet the voice echoed from there beyond the darkness, closer than ever in Levy's head compared to the city. Musty air funneled toward the open door, beckoning him inside.

He couldn't turn back anymore.

On wobbling legs, he stumbled over the threshold and into pitch black. The door creaked closed.

Moving no further, Levy blinked against the darkness. He kept a hand back, feeling for the door, as he used the other to scrub his stinging eyes. Perfume? Smoke? The air hung pungent around him. He wrinkled his nose and sniffled, hoping to swallow the sour bite in the back of his throat.

A soft titter responded. "Dear me," said the voice, crooning. "Forgive my atrocious manners!"

Levy bit back his retort, as the owner of the voice—a woman, judging by the velvety purr—clapped her hands. Lavender lights flickered alive around the walls, casting cobwebbed tomes and shelves of faceted bottles in an eerie glow. A figure shifted from its seat and wove toward the windows, and with a flourish, opened the stained glass panes into the orange light outside.

The breath Levy had allowed himself to release seized again as the woman turned. She was tall, voluptuous, yet her black dress dragged along the floor. Luxurious green curls, spilling from the sweeping brim of her pointed hat, framed her angular face. Stardust seemed to highlight her eyes, and dusted her otherwise pale, wiry hands. Clearly, Levy thought, he was looking at a fairy tale.

The woman snickered, shaking her head. "Very close, dear," she said. She crossed her arms under her bosom and leaned back against her countertop. "Let's begin with the basics. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Levy Luce."

That voice in his head. He pressed his palm over one ear again. "You've been talking to me," he said. "Ever since the city."

"We have some similarities, you and I," she said. "Relationships benefit much more from similarity than difference, proven, I would say, due to the ease with which I contacted you even while you wandered the concrete jungle." With a flourish, she bowed deeply. "Medeanda is my name, Dea to my few friends, and so, to you as well."

The statement snapped Levy awake from his bewilderment. "Since when were we friends?"

A dangerous glitter shone in Medeanda's deep ultramarine eyes. "From a moment in the near future, when you understand we have much to offer the other."

Levy jumped as Medeanda dissolved into the haze of the cabin. Yet her snickering echoed around him—in him. "I am the witch of Stardew Valley," she went on. "A philandering wizard lives here as well, one that I would love to oust, but I'm afraid I need some help."

Witch? Wizard? A few tricks with lights hardly moved Levy, but before he protested, a rush of cold blew past him. Then, Medeanda's voice hissed from behind. "Don't tell me now you don't believe in magic."

Levy wrenched himself out of Medeanda's wiry grip on his shoulder. She sat upon the ornate handle of a floating broom and grinned as Levy's voice left him entirely. "Visual proof staunches much argument," Medeanda declared. "Magic may be wholly foreign to you, but no need to fear—your end of this deal is actually very simple and requires no performance of magic on your part."

Eyes still on the polished wood of the broom, Levy snapped back, "Make your offer first. I don't care what you want 'til I know what I can get."

Brow raised and legs crossed, Medeanda leaned forward, chin cupped in her palm. Pinky pressed against her bottom lip, she sneered. "I can vindicate you."

She snapped her fingers, and then the images played: Kutone at the office, Darius in the swivel chair, mother and son playing together while business continued on. A sharp lurch cut through Levy, puncturing the images and shattering them like glass. Just as the crash rang too realistically in his ears, Medeanda nodded and pulled back in her seat, cackling. "How's that for a taste, Levy Luce! I can vindicate you! I can give shape and form and power to your anger—the anger that you are and must fulfill."

The ringing abated, leaving Levy with a pounding headache while Medeanda slipped off her broom. "All I need from you," she continued, "is a way in."

"To where?"

She pulled a rickety stool in front of a vanity and sat down facing away from the mirror. Crossing her legs again, she gave a knowing smile. "This valley's cornerstone. The key to its magic. Once I have that, getting rid of one crotchety wizard will be like swatting a fly; never mind the ability to dispel my curse."

In other words, serious issues. More glaring—or maybe the headache had fried Levy's sight—what should have been glowing green curls under Medeanda's hat reflected in her mirror as wiry black bristles. Sweat slicked his palms, his breath unsteadying with every inhale.

Something's wrong.

Medeanda had stopped talking, instead eyeing Levy with a widening simper. "Let's have us a trust exercise," she declared, standing from her seat. Hands on her hips, she glanced back over her shoulder. The silhouette in the mirror showed a pointed nose—green?—protruding from under her hat. "You've given me your anger. I'll give you my truth."

She turned and faced the mirror.

Levy yelped. His legs crumpled beneath him but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the jaundiced gaze glaring from the mirror. The mouth, the corners of the mouth, stretched too high up the cheeks. She had too many teeth. _Or it's just another light trick!_ A black gown hung in tattered curtains from the hunched back. Spindly fingers hooked from knobby knuckles.

Cold waves pulsed through Levy's body as the reflection tapped the mirror with a talon-like nail. "Aren't I hideous?" Two voices, the velvet purr and a stale rasp, spoke with a tremble of mocking sadness. "'Tis a powerful curse put upon me, Levy, to assume the visage of my own heart!"

Medeanda finally turned away from the mirror. An alluring woman crouched before Levy once again, her glossy lavender lip curled in a pout. "As though 'twere my own fault I became so green and wretched. It really wasn't. Would you believe me on at least that much?"

He nodded and nodded, his neck on its own uncontrollable spring.

"And nary a question to go with it?" She tittered and gave Levy's cheek a soft pinch. "Look at you, dear, beautiful child. Confident in your own wrathful power, you wield it mercilessly against those you must cull. 'Tis why the townspeople have become so terrified of you."

"But not my brother," Levy murmured. "Not Kutone."

"Not Kutone," Medeanda echoed. With a smile, she gave Levy's nose a light flick and stood up. "She is the proxy by which Rasmodius casts his protection on the valley. I'll spare you the details, but her dealings with certain entities in the valley bolster the wizard's ward, and thus his curse over me."

He inwardly thanked the witch for keeping her explanation simple, but Levy's mind burned with the image of those red and yellow eyes glowering from the shadows of the mirror. "This—this look you have right now," he started, "is what you want to look like?"

She waved her wrist and propelled Levy upright with a gust. "What I wish, and what I once was," she answered. "The hair's a stylistic choice. Owning my curse, if you will."

"How's getting at Kutone going to fix any of this?"

Medeanda wagged her finger. "The girl's powerful, despite having no magical talent. You have no hope against her blade or allies. So here is my proposal." She opened her palm, a whorl of darkness oscillating over it. Unknown, eldritch words hissed from her lips, and in a burst like a thunderclap, a white dove sat shivering in her hand. "This dove is a vessel," she said. "It was once a child."

Levy gawked. "Now you're just kidding around."

"Why would I? Plenty of parents wish their children away. I simply provide the means for those who can pay. But Levy dear, this is beside the point." With a slight, serpentine smile, she laid a kiss on the dove's head. Then, as she pulled her lips away, a faint white wisp spiraled forth. It wafted like smoke toward the ceiling, until Medeanda sighed deeply and the mists flowed in between her half-open lips. The dove's shuddering stopped as it lay its head down, and at the same time as a glow enveloped Medeanda's body, the dove's wings slumped.

Levy tasted ash in his mouth then, his voice gravelly. "Oh god," he whispered. "Oh Yoba. It's dead? It's dead."

"Don't take me for a boor, Levy," Medeanda replied. "Each of these sad children have already been forgotten by the parents who wished them away." She cradled the limp dove against her cheek. "But I allow these children the ultimate tantrum of their lives."

"How?"

Medeanda's eyes sparkled. "Well, after I take the light of their hearts, their wrath and retribution are left behind. I give that dark essence a new vessel, and—are you sure you want to know more?"

"No, actually, no I don't." Levy cleared his throat. "So you change kids into birds. You kill them. Then what?"

"Please, I'm no murderer! I initially developed this curse for one specific child, but those plans fell through. And, it turned out rather lucrative for me, for you see, each of these little parcels of Solar Essence dispels my curse one little knot at a time." She turned away and gently set the dove on a worn table. "Then I noticed a pattern. Children with greater potential for magic become doves carrying greater Solar Essence."

Her spindly broom descended, allowing Medeanda to sit, one leg over the other, upon it again. "Tell me what you think of Darius."

Levy, still staring at the unmoving dove on the table, blinked at the sudden change in subject. Darius, who had been telling the truth at least about the witch. Upon Medeanda's beckoning gesture, Levy answered. "There's something weird about him. His eyes—something I don't like about them—they're not right."

Medeanda nodded. "In thanks to the wizard's intervention, the boy's father apparently awakened an affinity for magic. So overwhelming is the father's potential, Darius was practically born a sorceror himself."

Strange how the things Levy found unsettling seemed to be explained with "magic." But doubt no longer clouded his perception. Every time he caught himself scoffing at "magic," the witch's reflection haunted his thoughts again. He couldn't doubt or disbelieve anymore. "You want to change Darius into a dove." Thereby breaking Kutone, rendering "the wizard" powerless, and giving Medeanda enough power to dispel her curse.

"Ah! Here we are, on the same wavelength! But alas!" She leaned back dramatically, feigning a swoon. "Kutone and Sebastian love their child dearly! No one in the world, not even Yoba Himself, could persuade them to relinquish that child to me!"

"Can't you just, I dunno, kidnap him, or something?"

"Two inherent problems there. Neither I or my powers can get close to Darius when his father's nearby. The man has no practice, but he is a warlock. He can tell even when I'm flying by."

Levy, surprised at himself for how naturally he now swallowed this, snorted. "And the second problem?"

"Darius is immune to curses."

He threw his hands up. "Then this entire conversation was just wasted time!"

Medeanda clicked her tongue. "You forget that I am such a genius regarding curses, that I can now develop my own. This, Levy, is where I need your help."

To help a witch develop a curse? Some strange giddiness welled in Levy's chest then. He pressed a hand over his heart.

Her smile had a knowing, deliberate curl at the corner of her lip. "Darius is still a child at heart, but he's proven himself alarmingly secretive about the powers he can wield. Unless the wizard has been coaching him, no one, not even Kutone or Sebastian, knows what Darius is capable of.

"To break down the boy's immunity to my curses, I need to know what he commands, what form and direction his magic takes. No need to know the jargon. Spend time with the boy, get Darius to trust you. Let him show you his magic."

"And I just tell you what I see."

"Quite simple, isn't it?"

Levy gazed at the dove again, his mind replaying its last shudder again and again. That could be Darius, if he cooperated with Medeanda. But was that the kind of low Levy Luce Young could sink to, just to get back at one woman? Kutone's intensity at the company building replayed in his head. _Whatever gripe you have…keep it between you and me_. Her son had to stay out.

He only needed to play the part Rhei prescribed. Be the exile. Be the sorry, hateful piece of shit he was and see what else Stardew Valley could to him. Truly, Levy thought, he played the easiest part in Medeanda's scheme.

But the dove. The damn dove! It died, it literally took its last breath when the witch breathed something out of it, and the bird stopped moving! No doubt this happening to Darius would break both Kutone and Sebastian beyond repair, but to go that far? To see Darius fade like that?

_If there's something bad… I can help._

Levy, wildly mussing his hair, finally shook his head. "You're asking me to give you a way to kill a kid. I know I'm one to talk, but I can't—I can't sink that low. I can't just say 'yes' to doing something like that."

He squeezed his eyes shut, expecting the witch to claw him to death, but a heavy sigh came instead. "Then congratulations. You've proven yourself to be much more dignified than you believe." As Levy opened his eyes and lifted his face, Medeanda slid off her broom and lit a thin smoking pipe. Sharp acidity punctured the air again. "Or you've decided you want to handle your wrath on your own, to which I wish you the very best of luck."

Boggled Levy stared at Medeanda's back.

She snorted. "I've been alive for a very long time, Levy Luce. Once you've seen as many years as I have, you learn which fights to let go, and which to hold on. Ah, but…" Tapping some ashes free into a carved wooden bowl, she turned to face him again. "I still believe you and I have a connection. That I could reach you so far outside the valley, that you were able to understand my intentions with the doves, that you beheld my true face and still had the heart to listen—these prove a bond, yes? A friendship?"

"The most dangerous one I've ever had, if I even wanted to call you a friend."

"I appreciate the description."

The longer he lingered, the more terror skittered across Levy's heart. He crept backward toward the door, eyes upon Medeanda's easy expression. Hand groping behind him, he grabbed the door latch, heaved back, and catapulted himself outside.

As he scrambled across the clearing, Medeanda appeared again at the hut's doorway. "'Tis a bit dark," she said after another pull of her pipe. "Be careful on your way back. And Levy?"

He willed his heavy feet to turn and march away. Still, Dea's voice echoed in the back of his ears, as if from the trenches of his thoughts.

"Feel free to visit me any time."

Levy, already stalking down the cavern passageway, wheeled around, breath caught in this throat. As Dea's voice died and left that eldritch whisper behind, he swore a length of thorned ivy had leapt at him from the shadows.

Hands clamped over his ears, Levy ran the rest of the way back to town.


End file.
